Queen of the Goblins
by symbiotic
Summary: Anderson Osborne, the daughter of Norman Osborne, is left a vast fortune in the wake of her father's death. To claim her fortune, she must eliminate those who opposed Norman, including Spider-Man. But she didn't account for Peter Parker. PeterxOC
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

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><p>The under side of the George Washington Bridge lay silent for a brief moment. Peter needed the silence and the calm, just for a brief moment. Clutched up against the wall, his Spider-Man costume ripped and torn and his body cut and bruised, covered in sweat, from a long battle that had occurred over the bridge. It had been the most vicious and brutal battle of his time as Spider-Man. Everything went into one fight, all the emotion and all the fury that had been building up between him and his nemesis, the Green Goblin, had finally boiled over. Norman Osborne, as Peter had knew it, had gone insane. He had kidnapped Gwen Stacy, and when Peter had tried to save her he instead broke her neck and killed her instantly. Everything went through his head at a million miles an hour, and all he knew was that the fight was not over in the least.<p>

Through all of the emotions and memories running through his mind at the speed of light, Peter's spider sense began to violently alert the 20 year old that he was in grave danger. Almost instantly, Peter heard the sound of two rockets hissing, growing louder and louder with each ticking fraction of time he sat on the wall. He jumped off, and watched as two orange shaped pumpkin missiles collided with one another, exploding just inches away from his body and shattering the earth near the bridge. Peter quickly landed on his feet, only to have his spider sense go off again. This time, two homing daggers shot at his body, Peter barely able to roll in mid air to avoid the deadly projectiles. It was than that the sound of a small jet engine became apparent, and the Goblin appeared to Peter below the bridge.

"So how's it feel wall crawler," Norman spoke with a sneer. Peter looked on in terror. "To know you lost? How's it feel to know how it is to lose a loved one to someone who disgusts you?" Peter stared into the heartless eyes of the Green Goblin's mask, not sure of what to say but knowing that a showdown was imminent between the two. "How's it feel, Parker?"

Not even responding verbally, Peter jumped and lunged at Osborne, attempting to shove his fist into the Goblin's face. The goblin dodged and drove his fist into Peter's chest, violently stopping Peter in mid air. Peter felt the wind go out of his lungs, his ribs buckle under the pain of the Goblin's armored glove and augmented strength. Norman than grabbed Peter and head butted him, knocking him to the ground where he lay in a heap of broken stone, barely able to move himself out of the way of the Goblin. Norman snickered and than jumped off the glider, picking up Peter and throwing him to other side into a column holding up the bridge. Peter barely managed to get up.

"Mr. Osborne," Peter squeaked. He gagged on blood and barely able to get any air into his lungs. "Why Mr. Osborne? Why are you doing this?"

"Osborne?" the goblin cackled. "You think this is Osborne? Parker, there is no more Norman Osborne. There's only you and me, and one of us is not coming out from under this bridge alive. You got it?"

Peter struggled to keep himself standing up, but almost immediately his spider sense kicked in once again. Adrenaline shot through his super human body, and using the last bit of strength he had, Peter quickly vaulted himself up into the air as the Goblin's glider flew out from behind him. Instead of hitting him though, the glider's speared tip instead impaled Norman Osborne and sent him crashing into the bridge. Peter looked on in shock, and raced over with what little energy he had left to Norman's body. He removed the Goblin's mask, and looked on at Norman's dying face, which was riddled in tears.

"Parker," Norman whispered. "Parker, you have to...have to..."

"Have to what Mr. Osborne," Peter said. He held onto Norman's body, feeling each labored breath the dying business executive was taking. He watched Norman cough up blood and felt his breathing grow harder and harder

"You have to protect my children," he said. More blood gushed from his mouth. "Please, protect them, and tell them I am sorry."

"Children?" Peter said. "Mr. Osborne, Harry is your only child what are you...?" Peter felt Norman's body grow limp and the older man's breathing stop. He held Norman's dead body close for a moment, and than began to remove his Goblin costume and shot a line of webbing to get out from under the bridge. As he swung away toward the Osborne mansion, Peter could not help but wonder about what Norman had told him. Could Norman Osborne have had another child other than Harry, his best friend?

He was not sure what to make of it, and let the thought sit in the back of his mind as he went to leave Norman's body where it felt it should be rested.

* * *

><p>On the hardwood indoor surface at the Open GDF Suez tournament, Anderson Reiss stared down her opponent. She watched ever intricate motion that her opponent's body made, analyzing her body as she went and served the ball for Anderson to hit on her own side of the court. Anderson saw the tennis ball fly toward her and quickly began to calculate where to position herself to best hit the ball. When it came to her, she raced over and with the swiftness of a samurai swinging a katana, accurately placed her racquet onto the tennis ball and sent it shooting through the air. She watched as the ball went over the net and gracefully landed just before the line near her opponent. It was in bounds, and her opponent missed it. Set won, match won, tournament over, and she now had seven hundred thousand dollars in her pocket.<p>

Anderson wiped the sweat from her forehead and smirked. This one match had not really tired her, all the other ones before it included a hard fought duel with top seeded opponent Anya Nikolaeva in the previous match to get to the finals was harder than this one. This match, with Japan's Asumi Takara facing her, was nothing hard for her. In fact, she thought it may have been the easiest tournament clinching match she had been in. She did not even bother embracing Asumi when she came over for the traditional victory hug. Instead, in the way that Anderson earned her nick name "Burner" for, she left for the locker rooms with her racket cradled over her right shoulder. The paparazzi began to follow her.

Her agent, Elizabeth Fullerson, raced up to her as she walked into the tunnel toward the locker room. She could barely make it through the hordes of paparazzi, but managed to just get close enough with an out stretched cell phone in her hands for Anderson to take.

"You," Elizabeth panted. "You have a call." Anderson stopped and looked at the crouched over middle aged woman who was her agent, clearly tired from having to try to fight her way through all the reporters and tabloid photographers looking to get a good shot of her ass. Anderson chuckled a bit.

"I think I slaughtered her, right Liz?" Anderson said.

"Yes you did Ms. Reiss but you must take the phone," she panted. "It's some attorney for you."

The smirk on Anderson's face quickly vanished and a sigh came on.. She hated to hear anything from lawyers and court room appearances. To her they were nothing more than wastes of time and extra media outlets for her to have energy sapped away into. Anderson quickly reached for the phone from her agent's hands and began to run away from the paparazzi, leaving her agent in the dust to face the flashing lights and furious questioning of the journalists herself. Once she felt she was far enough away and close in the tunnels of the stadium to the locker room, Anderson answered the phone.

"Is this Anderson Osborne?" a male voice on the other end said.

"Yes it is," she said. "Who is this?"

"My name is Jack Cunningham, I'm your father's attorney," he began. "Ms. Osborne, we regret to inform you that your father has passed away."

Anderson felt her throat begin to tie up, and tears begin to pool up in her must be some kind of joke, she thought. Her father was alive and well. He was the successful head of Oscorp and was close to releasing a new series of medications that would be able to cure some of the world's most deadly diseases. He had all that he needed. Sure, she knew he had his enemies, but how could he die so soon? She had just spoken to him yesterday.

"How did this happen?" she asked. She barely could get the words out of her mouth. "How did he?"

"We're not quite sure. You missed his funeral, it's happened already today and it was small and private. But I'd like for you to come by to New York City sometime and meet me to disclose his wishes for you," Jack told her from the other end. "If that's okay with you, of course."

"Yes," she squeaked through her sobs. "It is. Look, I need to go." She hung up the phone and collapsed down on the floor against the wall, her head in her hands, her tennis racket hitting the floor like it meant nothing to her at all. She threw the cell phone against the wall and just sat there, sobbing like a child and looking very much unlike the brash, fearless, and risque Anderson Reiss that people had grown to know since she started becoming an international sensation.

Elizabeth managed to catch up with her and find her in this state. While she sighed at seeing another one of her expensive cell phones broken by her client, she put that aside and sat down next to Anderson, embracing her tightly and rubbing her back gently like anyone with motherly instinct should. Anderson just kept weeping on Elizabeth's shoulder as the news continued to sink further and further into her mind.


	2. Coming Home

Chapter 1-Coming Home

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><p><em>A few months later...<em>

* * *

><p>It was another typical day at the <em>Daily Bugle's <em>office building. Everyone was furiously answering calls and scouring their sources, their desks cluttered with mountains upon mountains of paper, looking for anything that could be of use or of detriment to a potential story. The whole building seemed to be in this sort of constant state of chaos every day. It was nothing new to Peter Parker, who was sitting at his cubicle desk sorting through some of his photos to potentially use for his next article. He cycled through the list on his computer, looking at each still he was able to capture with his latest bout of web sligning through New York City. He looked at some of them and sighed. Nothing was really that exciting when it came to Spider-Man related material. A burglary stopped here, an escaped convict caught there, it was not anything front page worthy.

The only thing that had lately caught his eye were a series of photos of the Vulture that he had managed to snag. He had seen him flying around the city recently, and it had sparked his curiosity. While it did not outwardly the Vulture was up to no good, Peter knew better and made a mental note to investigate any further appearances of the avian based villain. Until then, he was stuck in the monotonous chaos of the _Daily Bugle_. That was, until the monotony was broken up by none other than the gray hair, gruff, cigar smoking Daily Bugle owner and CEO, J. Jonah Jameson.

"Parker!" Jameson shouted. "Parker, where the hell are you?" Peter looked over his shoulder and saw Jameson, standing there with the typical disgruntled and unsatisfactory look that had almost become standard to Jameson's appearance on his boss's face, seeing him in his typical white button down shirt with a red and black tie and the sleeves rolled up. A half smoked cigar was grasped firmly in Jameson's teeth, it's smoke making it's way slowly over to Parker's nose. Peter waved his hand in front of his face, and than stood up from his desk with a few of his printed photos in his hands.

"Yes Mr. Jameson?" he asked.

"In my office now Parker," Jameson demanded. "I want to see what kind of shots you've gotten of that wall crawling dirt-bag lately, and I got some other work fro you to do." Jameson stormed out of the cubicle area and into his office, slamming his door with a fury that seemed to make the whole building shake and silence everyone working at the Daily Bugle for a few seconds. Once Peter stopped standing outside his cubicle and walked toward Jameson's office, everyone went back to work.

Peter opened the door and closed it slowly, much to the contrast of the way his boss treated his office space. The room wreaked of cigar smoke, and Peter looked to see his boss's ash tray filled with three cigar butts already. Peter sighed. That was never a good sign. It meant that either Jameson had a huge assignment for him and was desperate, or he was really angry with Peter himself. Sitting on the couch in Jameson's desk was Joe "Robbie" Robertston, Jameson's editor in chief of the _Daily Bugle_ and closest friend.

"So what you got for me today Parker," Jameson asked. He shoved the remainder of his cigar into the ash tray, putting it out before snatching the new photo prints out of Peter's hands. "What kind of dirt you got today on that web slinging piece of scum?"

"Well I mean nothing special," Peter said. "No real big time Spider Man sightings lately". He watched JJ look carefully at each of the prints, looking for something that would make them front page worthy and proof that Spider-Man was the menace he believed he was. Peter could tell JJ was not really pleased with what he had managed to take photos of.

"Sure looks like it," Jameson said. He crumpled up the photos and threw them in an already overflowing waste-paper basket. "That's alright though, the less Spider-Man in my day the better. But we have more important matters on our hands today Parker."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief and smiled a bit. Taking photos of himself performing acts of heroism only to have Jameson rip Spider-Man on the front page of the Daily Bugle did get tiresome after awhile. It was good to know he really did not need any new material in that regard.

"I got another assignment for you today though Parker," Jameson began. "You know who Anderson Reiss is, right?"

"Who?" Peter asked.

"What!," Jameson shouted. He slammed his fists on the desk. "You don't know who she is?"

"Well no not really," Peter told his boss. He sheepishly giggled and rubbed the back of his head. "I've been really busy with school work and taking care of Aunt May lately, so I haven't really had as much time to catch up with popular media. Who is she?"

"She's only the fastest rising most popular woman in the world Parker," Jameson exclaimed. "Don't tell me you live under a rock kid."

"I'm sorry I've just never heard of her before Mr. Jameson," Peter said. He shrugged his shoulders, and saw Jameson nod his head in disbelief. He watched his boss give a look to Robertson, which was a signal for the editor in chief of the Daily Bugle to do the explaining for him.

"Anderson Reiss is a lot of things Peter," Robbie began. "But she's mostly well known as the biggest rising star in international tennis."

"The Williams sisters, Sharapova, Clijsters, they don't have anything on this girl," Jameson said. "It's like she's unbeatable. Show him Robbie." Joe reached down to the coffee table in Jameson's office and turned on Jameson's HDTV to ESPN, where highlights were playing of Reiss defeating another top women's opponent with ease to win another major tournament title. Peter looked at her and was somewhat impressed. He was not really a sports guy beyond a small interest in his hometown New York Mets, but the way Anderson appeared so seamlessly defeating the other tennis players was rather impressive to highlights than stopped to a show a statement by Reiss to be lead out loud.

"...Reiss dropped out of the Women's Tennis circuit for the year due to what she calls a family tragedy," ESPN anchor Neil Everrett spoke. "According to her agent, Reiss will leave the circuit to take care of her family matters before resuming all other business and sports activities, which have been suspended indefinitely." Robertson shut off the television and continued to explain, handing Peter a copy of _Vogue_ magazine with Reiss on the cover.

"She's also a world class model, big time actress, and a noted philanthropist for various causes throughout the world," Robertson explained. "But best of all she's really big on tennis and also being a daredevil. Last year, she set a record for the lowest height base jumped by a woman."

"So she's pretty famous," Peter said. He smirked at the thought of the woman he was seeing on the cover of Vogue. "And a little crazy. Nice."

He looked at the magazine, where Anderson was lying on a white bed in a short black dress, wearing fine golden jewlery and a strand of pearls around her neck and her brown hair flowing freely onto the sheets she rested upon. Peter could see why people were so into her from this photo. It made him chuckle a bit inside. Guys always will go nuts over beautiful looking women who were beautiful clothing. Peter looked at her photo on the cover again, he thought he noticed something about her. The way she looked, the way her face looked, it almost looked familiar to him, like one of his friend's faces had been put onto someone else. He was not quite sure who he knew that she looked like, so he shook the thought of his mind and put the magazine back down. "So what's the big deal about her?"

"Anything involving her is a big deal these days Parker," Jameson said. "And we've learned that she'll be arriving in New York City today, in a couple of hours in fact. I want you to get down to La Guardia when she lands and give me the best shots of her money can buy Parker. I've got a big bonus in it for this one."

"You sure this is right Jonah?" Robertson asked. "I mean, the woman is dealing with a pretty rough situation and maybe it would be nice of the Bugle's name was crossed off the paparazzi list right?"

"Not when we have a golden opportunity to snatch a diamond being dangled right in front of us Robbie," Jameson remarked. "This is a business, and anything involving her equals more business." Jameson looked and than glared at Parker. "Well don't just sit there Parker, get out there and get me some photos!"

"I'm on it Mr. Jameson," Peter said. He left Jameson's office and grabbed his cameras from his cubicle before heading to the elevator. He pressed the button for the rooftop floor. He began to set up his camera as he went up the elevator.

"I don't know what ol' JJ thinks is so amazing about this girl," Peter thought to himself. The elevator door opened to the rooftop and he walked outside. He began to unbutton his shirt and create a ball of webbing for his clothing to attach to the wall of the Daily Bugle building's roof. "But if it means a bonus, I think it it will be worth it." Peter slipped on his Spider Man mask and put his clothes in the webbing ball to be left for later. He than stepped out over the edge of the Daily Bugle building and jumped down, falling for half a second before shooting a line of webbing onto a building and beginning to swing away.

"Besides," he thought. He swung briskly through New York City. "Anything to do a web swinging is always worth it."

* * *

><p>"Ladies and gentlemen this is the captain speaking," the pilot of Anderson's private Learjet spoke over the intercom. "Please fasten your seat belts will be starting our approach into La Guardia shortly."<p>

Anderson buckled her seat-belt and smiled, she loved this part of landing. She looked over at Elizabeth, who was sitting next to her and getting a white paper bag ready on her knees. Anderson chuckled at her agent's lack of a sturdy stomach, and her general distaste for flying. Anderson on the other hand loved flying, and could not get enough of being in her Learjet sometimes. She held onto the arm rests.

"You ready?" Anderson asked. Elizabeth turned white as a sheet as the Learjet began to descend and get closer and closer to the ground. Anderson looked out the window at the ground below, seeing the runway of La Guardia Airport approaching quicker and quicker. "Here it comes!"

"Oh Jesus," Elizabeth squeaked. Right at that moment, the descend finally and quickly completed itself, with the wheels of the Learjet slamming into the ground and the drag of the flaps pushing Anderson and Elizabeth back into their seats. Anderson smiled through it all. Elizabeth vomited into the white paper bag, which made Anderson a bit nauseous herself. She hated seeing her agent vomit every time the plane landed in some country. But she did not feel the need to throw up. Rather, she just sat and waited for the plane to stop on the tarmac at La Guardia.

"Ladies and gentlemen we have touched down at La Guardian Airport," the captain said over the intercom. "Please collect all your bags and welcome to New York Anderson. Enjoy your stay."

"Finally," Anderson said. She got up from her seat and grabbed her backpack from the overhead bin, than waited for Elizabeth to unbuckle her seat belt and get up. "Come on, we don't have all day."

"Anderson please," Elizabeth said. She shuddered and unbuckled her seat belt slowly before grabbing her own bag in the overhead compartment. "You know I have a hard time with flying." She folded up the white paper bag and followed Anderson down the cabin isle to the door of the Learjet. "Besides, we are not in any rush you know. It's not like the press is..."

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of vocal commotion and snapping cameras looking for a photo of the landing aircraft. Elizabeth peaked out one of the windows and saw a horde of waiting paparazzi for her client to have to face. Elizabeth sighed. This was supposed to be a private, peaceful, and respectful thing that the paparazzi were not to interfere with. This looked like just something to get Anderson flustered, she thought, as much as she knew Anderson loved the cameras and the crowds that came to see her. She went to get away from the window before she heard a scream coming from the door of the aircraft.

"Anderson," Elizabeth said. She ran out to the door of the plane, and looked at the paparazzi. They were all looking up at the sky and snapping pictures. Elizabeth looked up with them, and heard Anderson scream as what appeared to be a giant green bird carried her away into the New York Sky.

* * *

><p>Peter swung in from Manhattan and landed himself onto the control lower of La Guardia, crawling under the tower's flight control deck to set up his camera with his webbing. "Now," he said. He spun a web for the camera and smiled in front of the camera, as it automatically took a picture of him per the settings he adjusted the camera to. "Perfect. I should get some great shots of Ms. Reiss up here."<p>

He looked down at the crowd on the tarmac, seeing the massive crowd of paparazzi that he himself was supposed to join to get photos of her. He sighed. Not only did he think he could never get a photo of Anderson in that crowd, but he wondered if it was right to be following such a woman who was suffering from what ESPN described as a family emergency. He shrugged his shoulders. It was not really up to him to judge, especially considering what kind of bonus that Jameson was going to probably pay him. He shot some webbing and swung himself down behind the crowd, crawling up above an overhang of one of the gate buildings and aiming his camera at the door of the airplane.

"Alright Ms. Reiss," Peter said to himself. "Smile for the camera." He zoomed in on the door of the staircase set up on the tarmac, and looked on as Anderson's Learjet landed on the La Guardia runway and taxied up to the stair case. "Come on," Peter begged. He ran his finger over the capture button. "Get out of the plane already, I need to get these photos soon or I'll never have time to..."

Suddenly, his spider sense went off. Peter looked around and saw nothing, confused as to what was going on. Nothing could elude his spider sense. Peter looked around and than heard a scream, and than looked on as The Vulture swooped in and took Anderson into his clutches, flying away into the Manhattan sky. The paparazzi on the ground began snapping photos skyward.

"Damn it," Peter said. "I was hoping to lay low for awhile, but it looks like JJ is going to get his wish." He shot some webbing back to the control tower and swung over, grabbing his camera before going out onto the control tower deck to see the direction The Vulture was flying away with Anderson. "It looks like Spider-Man is making a very public appearance."

* * *

><p>Anderson writhed and kicked in The Vulture's clutches as she was carried through Manhattan in his talons. She was a strong girl, but she could not seem to break herself out of The Vulture's talons. She looked down at the ground and saw it getting smaller and smaller, and for the first time in awhile she felt scared of flying. This must be what Elizabeth feels when we fly, she thought. Helplessness, fear, a sense of impending doom all were rushing through her mind at a million miles an hour as the The Vulture carried her through the sky and into Manhattan.<p>

"What the hell is going on," Anderson asked. The vulture leg go over her with one of his talons, making Anderson scream before he picked her up again with the other talon to shut her up. "Where are we going?"

"Shut up woman," Adrian Toomes ordered. He flew with Anderson clutched in his suit's talons, looking for a perfect place to land with his wealthy hostage. "You are now an asset I refuse to let you become some kind of liability to my plans. And you can help by not talking, understand?"

"Screw you asshole," Anderson shot back. Adrian let go of Anderson with one of his talons again, and she again screamed in terror as she hung by one talon from The Vulture's grip. He grabbed her again, and this time she kept her mouth shut. She struggled to keep it shut until The Vulture put her down on top of the Bank of America Tower near Time Square. Anderson looked down at the street and saw it mobbed with people looking up at the building, along with a bunch of paparazzi looking to get a photo of The Vulture and his new hostage.

"Listen up New York," the Vulture called out. He grabbed Anderson and picked her up with his talons, dangling her over the edge of the Tower. "If I don't get every last one of my demands met, Anderson Reiss becomes roadkill! Understand?" Anderson shrieked violently and struggled in the Vulture's grip, making Adrian let go of her again with one talon again. Anderson screamed again, only this time Adrian grew sick of her screaming and dropped her, intending to grab her again before she hit the street. Instead though, Anderson fell and was grabbed by The Vulture's dreaded red and blue nemesis.

"Spider Man!" Adrian exclaimed. He looked down and saw the wall crawling hero holding Anderson on the wall of the Bank of America Tower. "How dare you interfere with my plans!"

"It's funny old man" Peter remarked. He shot some webbing at The Vulture's face and covered his mouth, silencing the old flying man for brief moment. "I never took you for one to go after younger women." He looked at Anderson, who he held close in his arms. "You okay?"Anderson nodded yes quickly. "Hang on then, I'm going to get you on the ground."

Peter shot a strand of webbing and swung down with Anderson in his arms toward the crowd of paparazzi. But before he could get there, the line was cut by the diving Vulture. Anderson was jostled from his arms and flew down toward the street, screaming until she was again snatched by the Vulture and carried off down through Time Square and into Manhattan. Peter recovered quickly though, shooting another strand of webbing to swing around and chase after The Vulture. The paparazzi followed closely to the chase.

"Man," Peter said to himself. "This lady really brings a crowd." He swung along behind the vulture, trying to keep up with the flying villain's pace, keeping up as Anderson held on from the Vulture's talons by only her shirt. The Vulture however was not slowing down, and Peter could not sling his webs any faster than the pace he was going. He swung up and stopped on the roof top of a skyscraper. He needed a plan.

"If I just keep swinging through the streets I'm never going to catch up to him," Peter said to himself. "I need to get her out of his talons, but how?" Peter looked out from the skyscraper and saw the Vulture turning the corner toward his location, and that Central Park was off in the distance. Peter got a plan, and stepped out onto the ledge of the skyscraper's rooftop.

"I got one shot at this," he said to himself. "Here goes nothing." Peter than dove off the rooftop and hurdled down toward the ground as fast as possible. The Vulture and Anderson flew just under him, and at the moment he passed by them while falling he shot a single line of webbing at The Vulture. Only he was not aiming for the Vulture, he was aiming for Anderson. Just as he had planned, he caught her in a line of webbing and than after securing himself with another line of webbing to another building, he pulled her right from the Vulture's talents and into his hands.

"Sorry about before," Peter said. He clutched Anderson tightly with this free hand and than looked behind him while he swung along, the Vulture was making a turn around in the sky. "But we're not done yet. You want to help me take this guy down?"

"Gladly," Anderson said. She onto Spider-Man as tightly as she could and looked on as the Vulture began to come around for another strike at him and Anderson. Peter kept on swinging though, looking on as Central Park and it's main pond grew closer and closer to him and Anderson. "What are you going to do? Aren't you going to fight him?"

"Not if I want to keep you safe," Peter told her, and shot a line of webbing to take them into the park and down into the spire of Belvedere Castle in Central Park. Peter leg go of Anderson, and looked as he saw the Vulture circling over them, waiting for a chance to strike. "You ready?"

"Yeah I am," Anderson said.

She clutched her fists, as if she was going to punch the Vulture right when he came down to get them. But instead, the moment that he dove, Peter dove himself and grabbed her, diving off of the roof of Belvedere Castle and toward the lake in Central Park. Anderson screamed and waited to hit the water, but that never came. Instead, she held on as Peter shot another line of webbing onto the main square of Central Park and planted her on the ground safely, while The Vulture instead could not stop himself midway through the dive and crashed into the lake in Central Park. Immediately when he did, Adrian Toomes could feel his flight harness begin to short circuit, and the strength that it provided him quickly vanished from his body. In the thick of the deep water of the lake, he soon found himself being unable to float and furiously started treading water to get to the surface.

"Help me!" he called out. Peter looked over and saw the old villain drowning, and reluctantly shot a line of webbing onto Adrian and pulled him out of the lake and onto the square. There he tied him up with more webbing, and waited only a few seconds for the police to arrive. Naturally because of Anderson, the paparazzi followed.

"Caught another one for you guys," Peter remarked.

"Thank you," a police officer told him. "You really make our job a lot easier". He and another officer picked up the Vulture.

"Hey, it's what I do," he said. "Spin a web of any size and catch bad guys just like flies." He laughed at himself and looked over, where he saw Anderson laughing a bit at his joke. "Come on, I can't be that lame...can I?"

"Maybe," Anderson said. She walked over and embraced Peter tightly. "Thanks for saving me from that guy. You're pretty awesome actually."

"Why thank you Ms..." Peter began. He knew her name, but he did not want to reveal as Spider-Man that he knew who she was. Anderson chuckled again and planted a kiss on his masked cheek, which made Peter blush under his Spider-Man costume.

"It's Anderson," she said. She held onto him still. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Hey if you're in New York, you probably will," Peter told her. "But hopefully you won't see me under such dire circumstances next time." Anderson chuckled again, and Peter was going to ask her something before he noticed the paparazzi getting in front of the police and starting to snap photos of Anderson and himself as Spider-Man. That was something that Peter did feel like he wanted to stick around for. "I have to go, he said. He jumped up and shot a line of webbing onto a tree and swung to the top of it.

"Wait!" Anderson yelled. "Who are you?"

"Me?" Peter called back. "I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!" With that, he jumped off the tree and swung away, leaving Anderson to face the paparazzi alone.


End file.
